Waking Up
by kimberkatt
Summary: Just an addition to the episode 'Cloaked'. Something I think should have happened between Tony and Ziva before and inside the elevator.
1. Chapter 1

**Waking Up**

As usual in any fanfiction the disclaimer is that I own none of these characters so please do not sue. I use them for my own fun and that's it!

Btw this is my first story I ever posted. This is a revised version and I want to thank Jenna for helping me rewrite part of this chapter and thank hundan for pointing out a mistake I made in the original post. Enjoy.

Kimmie

This is rated NC-17 for smut and language.

**Chapter 1**

Team Gibbs were discussing the 'Mole' problem when the suspected mole herself came waltzing up to their little threesome. Ziva stared the girl down—it was the assassin in her, but Tony of course went off the cuff and blathered on about a beauty mark and it being benign. Tim looked confused, but went with his senior field agent, and as usual McGee was slightly amazed at Tony's ability to just come up with a conversation or excuse at a drop of the hat. Ziva had to stop the eye roll as her partner charmed Michelle with his 'beauty-mark' routine. He was too much, yet as always he managed to surprise her with his ability to think on his feet. It was, by far, the thing that made him such a good undercover agent.

Tony turned on the charm and Michelle had not a clue of the virulent anger he barely managed to keep out of his voice when he told the 'lawyer-agent' that their side had lost the 'quote-end-quote' "War-Game". Tony looked cool as a cucumber, but the curl in his lip when he simulated the fist to the chin gave witness to what he really felt. As far as Tony was concerned everything in his world at NCIS had tilted on its axis last night and not just because the mission had been compromised and he and Ziva had been caught. No, what had made it truly unforgettable was the exact second he realized that he'd been used once again and that Gibbs might be in on the plan too.

Now _that_, had been the sucker punch that had nearly floored Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He was sick of the higher ups and their secret agendas and duplicitous actions. Considering the shit Jenny had put him through last year—was it really surprising that this kind of deception was the proverbial 'straw that broke the camels' back'? Jenny's mission with La Granuille and Jeanne had nearly broken him. In that op he'd broken rule number 10—never become personally involved, but he hadn't really had a choice…His job was to basically seduce the girl. And he had in spades, but it had been wrong. Just like this whole mess—he felt it. Tony was tired of the politics and he was tired of being used as a pawn in someone else's game. He could easily see Vance doing this, but Gibbs? That was the one piece of this puzzle he just couldn't wrap his mind around. Why? Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never bowed down to any of the politics or overblown bureaucracy of the agency. Why would he start now? And why use his team to do it?

It was _that _suspicion that made his gut twist as Tony marched back to his desk and threw himself into his chair. Angry and confused he rifled through his files, looking for a case—any case to distract him from the myriad of suspicions and conspiracy theories waging war in his head, but he kept coming back to the nonexistent case that had been a lie from the beginning and what exactly the whole charade meant. Finally he punched up the case on his computer and reread the report looking for something-anything he might have missed. Nothing. All re-reading it did was give him with a headache. It did nothing to aleviate his confusion and anger. _Had _Gibbs known? Tony gave up trying to act productive and finally let his head fall. "Fuck…" he muttered and buried his head in his hands.

Ziva noticed Tony's slumped position when she reentered the bullpen and paused beside his desk for a second. The waves of anger rolling off those broad shoulders were palpable. he was so tense she almost reached out to him. Her hand even hovered midair, ready to soothe him, but touching him, feeling those muscles bunch under her hand would open a different can of worms. One she was unprepared to examine-at least not now. Silently she let her hand drop and went back to her own desk instead. Pulling out her chair, she said, "Putting your face in the sand will not solve the issue, Tony." His head snapped up and his bright green eyes were intense—angry, but she went on, ignoring the warning look on his handsome face. "It is whatever it is. Someone makes the decisions and others follow orders. It's just the way things are."

His lip curled into a sneer. "It's hiding your head in the sand, Ziva. And I'm not," he said, turning his silent glare from her to look up the stairs to the director's office. His jaw tightened until a muscle ticked there. "I'm just trying not to go up there and tell the toothpick what I really think of him," he growled, suddenly standing up and pushing his chair back so forcefully that it bounced off the filing cabinet behind him and overturned. He slammed his hands down flat on his desk and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You can tell yourself that what happened last night is okay, but it isn't."

"Tony it is politics. It isn't personal."

"I know that, but I still don't like it."

She gave a small snort and without thinking shot back, "Well, I am surprised you even care, considering you are so busy playing the role of the jokester that you rarely take anything seriously—including your job!" Ziva regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. Tony may hide behind the face of a clown, but he was a very good investigator and a rock solid agent. He didn't deserve that.

He reacted as if she'd slapped him. His face paled as he took a step back. "And you said you needed a paper-clip to mortally wound a guy..." he quipped, but there was no humor in his voice and Ziva actually felt the chill that settled over him at her uncalled for attack.

"I am—" She'd started to say she was sorry, but he cut her off with a slash of his hand before she could finish.

"Save it—don't show weakness now, David. You haven't pulled your punches yet. Don't start now," he bit out, pulling his shirt collar aside and exposing the strong column of his neck. "Here's my jugular. Go ahead, go for the kill. Maybe you want to remind me I couldn't save Kate or how I let Jenny die too?"

He was furious and most likely hurt too. She didn't blame him. "No. Tony, I didn't—"

"Don't. Don't try and tell me you didn't mean it."

"But I did not," she said. He crossed his arms over his chest and Ziva went on, "I should not have said that. You are more than competent and what happened with either Jenny or Kate was_ not_ your fault. It's just—"

"It's what Zee-Vah?" he interrupted, drawing out her name sarcastically. She started to answer but he snorted, abruptly cutting her off. "Whatever. I don't have time for this," he said, gathering up his stuff with brusque, angry movements. "I need answers and arguing with you is only making my headache worse."

Ziva took a deep breath to calm her own temper. He was not listening to a word she said. While she might deserve his anger, he could at least give her a chance to explain. "Tony, wait. You are angry and I understand. I should not have said what I did, but I was trying to get you to see that sometimes decisions are made and it is not our job to question them. We do what is asked and that is all-even if we do not like it. That is what I meant."

He heaved a long sigh, pushing around a few folders on his desk. "Yeah, that's not what you said, but whatever. You may be able to shut off your emotions in the blink of an eye, but I can't," he told her leveling those long lashed green eyes on her. Ziva flinched at the roiling emotions there. Tony's eyes usually danced and sparkled with either mirth or mischief, but in that moment they were dark. Turbulent. No sparkle, just seething anger. Ziva looked away and Tony smirked as he pushed his chair up to the desk. "But then again you were trained better than I was, right? How many times have you told me that?" He didn't wait for an answer. "But, in my defense, if playing the _'jokester'_, as you put it, keeps me out of the drama of the director's office then I'm fine if everyone sees me as nothing more than a clown." he paused and their eyes colided and held for several seconds. "_But_ I thought you of all people knew me better than that," he muttered, rounding his desk and taking off towards the elevators before she could answer.

Ziva stared after him with a sad look of regret. Usually Tony hid his emotions well, but not tonight. He was in obvious pain and now part of that was her fault. Her heart thudded in her chest, disturbingly painful as she called after him, but he kept walking, ignoring her. Ziva hesitated only a second before she took of after him. When she rounded the corner of the elevators she could see him punching the buttons in an attempt to either break them or get them to close faster, she wasn't sure but she was betting on the latter The doors started to close and his fist hit the buttons on the panel hard—maybe he was trying to break them after all. While the doors were still ajar Ziva took that moment to leap into the elevator with him.

"Oomph," she said, landing with an easy grace beside him. "That one hurt."

He shot her a look of annoyance at her highjacking the elevator with him. "No, it didn't," he shot back, pacing the small space of the lift like a caged tiger.

Ziva's doe eyed gaze roamed over him. Prowling like he was, he looked like a tiger too—or maybe a lion with his golden coloring. There was no denying he was strikingly handsome. Arrogant too and Ziva was sure that his flirtatious grin had charmed more than his fair share of women into doing God knows what, but that didn't make him any less attractive in her eyes. No, it was just Tony and his cockiness was also part of his charm, even if it did make her want to smack him from time to time.

Despite her attraction to him, Ziva wasn't one to melt over a handsome face and as always, she spoke her mind. "Look, I too hoped things would be different by now."

Normally he'd make a quip or a joke, but the Tony DiNozzo stalking back and forth was not the jester everyone was used to. He was acting more like a predator than a clown and despite his ill-temper this side of Tony turned Ziva on even as he continued to ignore her. "I'd like to go up there and give Vance a piece of my mind…" he growled, pacing.

Ziva swallowed her rising desire. Maybe it was her Mossad training, but in that instant Tony DiNozzo was the sexiest animal she'd ever met. He was dangerous-exciting and subconsciously she pushed him even further—testing his temper to see if he'd snap. "Well, with the way you are losing it—I do not think you have enough to spare."

He spun and leveled his burning emerald stare on her for a split second. Ziva's belly tightened at the look of raw hunger—rage—lust—whatever it was on Tony's face, it was dark and sexy. Ziva's belly clenched in lusty anticipation as she'd never had she seen him look so hot and bothered. It was a look she'd not soon forget. They stared at each other and she almost leaned forward—offering up her lips, but in the next instant he turned his back on her and looked upward. Ziva quickly swallowed her disappointment as Tony muttered, "Like to take that toothpick of his and shove it up the Sec-Nav's cigar…"

That image alone was too funny, and more like the Tony DiNozzo she'd come to care a great deal about so she chuckled huskily—a tad sarcastically even as she egged him on even further. He needed to vent this rage or else he'd say it to the wrong person and _that_ Ziva couldn't allow. "You have had enough of this job then…" she taunted.

Tony snorted, barely glancing at her. "I like the job—I don't like the politics. I wasn't kidding about that earlier."

Angry that he was dismissing her so easily and that he would endanger his job and their partnership, Ziva lashed out, "If you had ever had some military training then maybe you would have learned to follow orders," she snapped, raising up on her tip-toes so that she was almost at eye level with him.

His eyes widened at the vehemence in which she delivered her statement, but then his temper went hot and he leaned in, towering over her and getting right up in her face. "Like you?" he asked her, obvious in his sarcasm. "We were given a direct order not to engage. I recall you were the first one to throw a punch."

The cocky smirk he gave her made Ziva's hair stand on end. "It was a reflex," she fired back.

Tony simply looked at her and the smirk didn't change. "Hmm. Really?" he retorted. "Then what happened after?" His voice rose. Rough—husky—it was sexy and it made Ziva's pulse rate accelerate. This was a side of Tony rarely seen. "Cause the last thing I remember," He told her staring straight down at her, giving her no quarter, "is _you_ kimbo-slicing through a room full of guards. Was that a reflex too?"

The tension was so thick you could literally slice it with a knife. The air in the elevator seemed heated—charged as Ziva stepped closer to him. "Yes!" she spat. "It was!" The previous night flashed in her head. '_How dare he question_ _why she lost it…Wasn't it obvious_?' Her temper spiked and suddenly she was overwhelmed with emotion as she defended her actions. "A gunshot went off—" She pointed at his head, "and I saw you—" In that second it all came back. Those few moments-gut wrenching, eternal seconds that she'd believed Tony dead to her. Ziva's throat closed, choking up and her words died a strangled death as she could no longer explain why she did what she did—it was just too hard with all her roiling emotions.

Xx***NCIS***Xx

Time seemed to stand still and Tony stared, stunned. He'd have never guessed-well maybe at one time he'd thought she had it as bad for him as he did for her, but it had seemed to fade. They still flirted occasionally, but they no longer had that smouldering 'eye-sex' they'd indulged in when she'd first started at NCIS. But maybe they'd just gotten better at hiding, because the burning desire in Ziva's eyes was so blatantly obvious that the words 'I want you' might as well be printed it across her forehead.

His adams' apple bobbed and he stepped closer to her, invading her space. "Ziva…" he murmured, green eyes searching her face intently. Ziva took a ragged breath but said nothing, but it was obvious-the reason for Ziva's explosion earlier was because she'd been worried about him. It blew his mind and for the first time Tony didn't want to fight his feelings anymore. Ziva sucked in a sharp breath as he took a step even closer. Their faces were mere inches apart as he whispered. "I'm tired of pretending…"

Ziva couldn't stop the shudder that went through her like a bolt of lightning. The heat in his eyes—the passion she felt in him. It was all too much and every nerve in her body sizzled as a low, burning heat coiled in her belly, making that spot between her thighs throb and ache painfully. It made her knees weak. "So am I," she admitted, knowing full well that with those words she was letting Pandora out of the box and once out—there would be no putting it back…

Tony's hands clenched and his entire body pulsed with awareness. Finally. He licked his lips and Ziva trembled, teetering on that edge, wanting to jump, yet terrified of the fall and then Tony reached out and flipped the switch of the elevator. It ground to a halt and the lights dimmed immediately. In the sudden soft lighting Ziva moaned softly as she stared at the man she'd wanted, yet denied for so long. That small sound was like a gunshot in the silence of the elevator and Tony gave a low growl in response. He'd swear later that every drop of blood in his overheated body headed south of his belt buckle in that's second and his cock ached for her.

The simple truth was—neither of them could wait any longer. This—explosion of raw sexual energy—it was something so long in coming that it had pretty much been a matter of when-not if- it would happen. Afterwards, neither was really sure who moved first, but in one moment Tony and Ziva were teetering on the edge-almost touching, aching for each other and then in the next Ziva was wrapped around Tony like a skin suit and he had his mouth slanted over Ziva's lips, tasting, licking and kissing her as if he didn't need oxygen and could simply draw his breath from her. Soft moans and low groans bounced off the metal walls of the elevator as the two partners finally gave in to that underlying sexual energy that had always been there, just hovering, almost breathing under every conversation and shared look they'd had since Ziva had joined the team.

"Jesus Ziva," Tony groaned as she grabbed him by the belt buckle and yanked him forward, wrapping a leg around his hip and grinding herself against the bulge in his pants.

Normally, Tony probably would have let her have her way—after all she liked to be on top and he didn't mind, but today he wasn't feeling at all submissive so he grabbed her by the hair at the nape of her neck and yanked her head back, exposing the soft curve of her delicate throat. Tony zeroed in on the spot behind her ear, paying homage to it with lips, tongue and teeth before trailing hot, wet kisses down her neck, nipping at her pulsing jugular and making the Mossad officer cry out in glorious ecstasy.

"Toneeyy..." she panted, moving along the hard muscle of his thigh, seeking the friction that would send her over the edge.

Tony smiled against her flesh. She was almost there. Her body was already tensing and the sounds she was making...it was music to his ears. "Like that don't you, Zee-vah…?" he purred, sliding his hand down her belly and cupping her mound through the dark blue pants she wore. She clutched his shoulders, whimpered and opened her legs to give him easier access. Tony's smile broadened and he went to work-in earnest on getting Ziva off. His sexy Israeli partner might be able to kill him in over a hundred ways including a paperclip and a credit card, but in this Tony knew he could hold his own. He may have bragged conceitedly about his sexual exploits, but he'd never fabricated them. He was determined to use every trick and bit of experience he had to make Ziva his. She may know how to use her body as a weapon, but Tony knew how to make her body sing.

Without breaking his rhythm stroking her Tony got her pants unbuttoned. His mouth took possession of her lips in a deep kiss just as his hand slipped inside her jeans and found the hot flesh of her woman's mound. He ran the pads of his fingers along the plump folds of her sex, using his thumb and forefinger to gently tug at her clit as his middle finger slid deeply into the tight, wet confines of her passage.

"You feel so good-so tight..." he groaned against her lips.

Ziva threw her head back, arched her hips into his touch. "Yesss!" she hissed, wrapping her arms and legs around his body. His thumb pressed against her clitoris again, harder and rubbed her in a way that sent her senses spinning. Ziva muttered something in Hebrew and practically climbed up on top of him, clinging to him like a spider monkey as she ground against his hand in an effort to find relief.

Tony peeled her off him and wrapped his arms around her. His chest heaved, panting as he turned them so that her chest was pressed against the elevator and her back was to him. His hands gripped her hips and pulled her flush against his groin as he ground his erection against the firm globes of her tight, rounded ass.

"Can't wait any longer..." he muttered, his jaw so tight a muscle ticked furiously as he tried to cool his raging desire down to just a dull roar. "Sorry if it's rough..." he said as he tugged her pants down and unbuckled his belt. He wanted to be patient and slow, but he didn't see it as a real possibility. He'd wanted her for too damned long and now he was about to have her.

Ziva pressed back against him. "Tony quit talking. We have waited long enough."

He chuckled. "Right." And she was. They _had_ waited long enough. Tony was more than ready to find out if the reality of being inside Ziva David was as good as his fantasies. She glanced at him over her shoulder and her sultry dark eyes flared with lust when she noticed he was unbuttoning his pants. She licked her lips and breathlessly asked him to hurry. Tony's knees wobbled and he had the distinct feeling that reality was going to be far, far better...

****NCIS****

**I know how evil to leave it there, but the next chap will be all good stuff so I didn't want to make this too long. RR and let me know how dirty you wasn't the smut! Lol. Please R&R so that musie will inspire me to make the next part super-duper hot!**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you very much to my reviewers. They're like chocolate. Yummy! Each and every review/comment is savored and appreciated, especially because this is my first story I've ever posted, so please let me know what you think.

Ok. This chapter is rated a strong M for lemons and language so if that isn't your style skip this.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this isn't written for profit-just for entertainment.

Last, but not least, a very special thanks to Jenna (Angel's blue eyed girl) for beta reading this chapter & helping with any rewrites.

Enjoy everyone.

Kimmie

~NCIS~

Previously:

_Ziva pressed back against him. "Tony quit talking. We have waited long enough."_

_He chuckled. "Right." And she was. They __had__ waited long enough. Tony was more than ready to find out if the reality of being inside Ziva David was as good as his fantasies. She glanced at him over her shoulder and her sultry dark eyes flared with lust when she noticed he was unbuttoning his pants. She licked her lips and breathlessly asked him to hurry. Tony's knees wobbled and he had the distinct feeling that reality was going to be far, far better..._

**Chapter 2**

He couldn't get his pants undone fast enough. Only problem, his hands were shaking, making him fumble with the zipper, which, ironically (and cruelly in Tony's opinion) was picking this time to be difficult by getting caught in the fabric. "Dammit…" he cursed under his breath. He gritted his teeth as he tugged at it, furiously trying to get it undone, but it wouldn't budge.

"Tony…what is taking you so long?" Ziva asked, her voice a blend of a needy whine and growly command.

"It's my zipper…" he muttered scowling at the annoying piece of metal. This wasn't a good start for the man once labeled the "Sex Machine". He was about to say 'fuck it' and just tear the damn pants open when it finally gave. The sound of his zipper lowering was loud in the close quarters of the elevator and in response Ziva shivered.

"Hurry…" she whispered.

Tony placed soft kisses along her neck as he pushed his pants and boxers down, giving a soft sigh of relief when his erection was finally freed from the tight confines of his pants. "Easy, my little Ninja," he purred in her ear. "I want this to be good for both of us."

"It will be if you would simply do something," Ziva hissed impatiently pressing her rear end against him in both invitation and demand.

Tony grunted in response, but he hurried to comply—it was what they both needed at this point. One hand snaked around her waist and down her taught belly to cup her naked sex, while the other gripped his cock and guided it to her opening. He rubbed her clit with his thumb and forefinger while he ran the weeping tip of his penis along her damp folds. She was so wet his eyes nearly crossed. He paused, took another shuddering breath and pushed forward. They both groaned as the mushroom shaped head slipped inside her. He rocked his hips forward, inching into her a bit at a time.

Sandwiched between Tony's big body and the elevator, Ziva's head tipped forward, her forehead pressing against the cool metal wall as he stretched her to the brink. She muttered a soft curse in Hebrew as he slid deeper. He was big—bigger than she'd anticipated, but she did not want him to stop. She'd waited so long—her body pulsed around him—it was almost too good. "Tony…Please…"she said softly, biting her lip, refusing to beg as he took his sweet time with her. Time they didn't have. "Tony…" she said again, but he refused to give her more. Ziva didn't doubt his lust. He wanted her as badly, if not more, but he was teasing her. Ziva decided to regain control. Purposely she clenched her internal muscles around him, milking a response from him and smirking to herself when he gasped and his hand tightened to a 'death-grip' on her hip.

Tony couldn't stop the groan that escaped his clenched jaw as her rippling heat surrounded him. "Fuck!" he cursed, sucking in a sharp breath when her sheath clamped down on him hard enough to be a mixture of pleasure and pain. It didn't surprise him that Ziva was forceful—even in sex. It also didn't surprise him that the reality of Ziva was far better than anything he'd ever dreamed of. And he'd thought about it a lot. Ever since the day she'd strutted into the bullpen and casually asked him if he was having 'phone sex'. From that moment on the idea of banging Ziva had been a constant favorite in his repertoire of fantasies, but he'd never seriously contemplated it actually happening…until now.

She fluttered around him again and he hissed softly, "Ziva, if you don't want this over before it even begins—stop that!"

She gave that husky chuckle of hers—it was almost a purr and Tony groaned low in his throat. The incredible feel of her around his cock was causing a strain on the control he prided himself upon and Tony found himself battling the urge to simply shove her up against the wall and pound into her like a mad-man. But since he _did_ have a reputation to protect—he was determined to make this damned good for _both_ of them!

When he felt sure he wouldn't embarrass himself any longer, Tony slid his fingers along the back of her neck and loosened the knot that kept her hair pulled back. He wrapped his hand in her dark, silky locks and tugged playfully as he leaned in over her, inside her. He inhaled her fragrance, almost purring. "Ready?" he murmured, his hot breath against her cheek caused her flesh to erupt in goose-bumps. She nodded wordlessly. He made an *mmmm* sound and nibbled the outer shell of her ear, sending a whole new set of tingles along her spine. Ziva shivered in response and Tony gave a soft growl against the side of her neck as he slid all the way in, impaling her with one quick thrust of his hips.

Her fingers curled, nails scraping along the metal. "Yesssss…" she gasped, trembling. She took short, controlled breaths. She was so completely full—stretched and pulsing around the girth of his cock. Gods, he felt good, but she needed more. She needed him to— "Fuck me, Tony…" she commanded, pushing her hips back until not an inch of space separated their bodies.

Her dirty demand went straight to his groin and his hips jerked in reflex. "Jesus Ziva," he muttered, but he got the hint and started to move. At first his pace was excruciatingly slow, too slow for Ziva and she wriggled her ass, imploring him to go faster, but Tony simply chuckled huskily. "Patience…" he whispered, bending his knees slightly and withdrawing until only the tip of him was still inside her. She growled and issued a command to go deeper. He refused, baiting her. "Do you want it rough, Zee-vah?"

"Yes! What do I have to do to get through to you?"

"I don't know—what do you want to do?"

His teasing was as obvious as her utter lack of patience, yet still he waited—egging her on. Tony liked seeing Ziva get fierce. It was a major turn on.

When he continued the game, she turned her head to drill him with eyes so dark with passion they were nearly black. He was taunting her. One brow shot up and she gave him a wicked little smirk. Well, she was pretty sure she could force his hand. "I am not a patient woman. You know this, yes?"

He gave a husky laugh, but kept still. His green eyes danced with sex and passion. "Uh-huh…" he licked his lips.

Ziva's eyes followed the movement of that talented tongue. He was an amazing kisser, so she already had a good idea of how good it would feel on 'other', more sensitive parts of her anatomy. She swallowed hard. "And you know I can hurt you in over a hundred different ways with nothing more than a paperclip?" Unh-huh—there take that!

His eyes crinkled at the corners as a slow smile spread across his face. "Yep," he replied. She was so sexy when she was annoyed with him. He couldn't resist.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but Ziva was warming to the game—even as she wanted it to end. "Then I would suggest, Tony, that you do not make me hurt you…" she teased with a sultry little smile, "I know how attached you are to…" she batted her lashes, "certain parts of your body. Now is not the time for you to play with me!"

If possible, his grin got even cockier. "Huh." He gave a shallow thrust of his hips and she gasped, bucking back, into him. Tony smirked, "I think you're pretty attached them it too, sweet-cheeks."

Ziva seriously began contemplating where and how badly she could hurt him without impairing his ability to finish what they had started. "Tony, I am warning you if you continue this game I will—"

He decided to take that moment to lunge upwards, burying every inch of his impressive length inside her. The force of his sudden invasion caused the words to stutter to a quick stop. Her eyes bulged and a garbled, "Uuunngghhh-ooh-you-God-Tony," slipped past lips that had fallen slack as soon as he invaded her body so thoroughly.

Tony chuckled low and deep. "I'll have to remind you later that you called me that…" he teased, settling his hands on her hips. He started to move in and out of her with long, sure strokes, hitting all her sweet spots. Ziva placed her palms flat against the wall and moved with him, her inner walls tightening around him as she raced towards orgasmic relief.

Ziva's fiery response triggered one in Tony too and just like that he was again fighting the primal desire to just fuck her against the wall and be damned with all else but getting off. Tony drew in a husky breath, restraining himself. She was so damned tight and he muttered a curse at how easily she'd thrown him off his game. "You're a naughty little putty-tat…" And to make sure she knew he could give as good as he got, one of his hands went right back to her pleasure zone to play with her clitoris. He used his thumb and fingers to bring her right to the edge until she was shivering in his arms, moaning and babbling uninteligible words in languages Tony didn't understand.

"Whatever you're saying," he growled, tucking his chin against her shoulder, "keep it up...it's hot," he added, trailing wet kisses along her neck, giving her a gentle nip here and there before centering his affections upon the throbbing pulse he found there. "Mmmmmm," he murmured against her flesh, "you taste so good."

As usual Ziva answered with the unvarnished truth."I was admiring your skill in Hebrew and maybe some Arabic. I am not sure, my head is spinning."

He gave a warm laugh and the DiNozzo grin spread across his face from ear to ear. "My skills, huh?" he asked, looking her in the eye for a moment. She gave him a smirk and nodded. "Mmmmmm, I like it," he said before returning to her throat to nibble on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.

"I thought you might," Ziva replied, arching her neck to give him better access. "Mmmmm, yes, right there," she moaned when he found a particular spot that made her squirm. She murmured his name as she reached behind her to wrap her arms around his head, and her fingers buried themselves in his short blonde hair. She clutched him to her, enjoying the sensations his oh-so-tempting mouth evoked along the tender skin of her throat. "Yes…you feel…so fierce…" she answered, pushing back into him and rolling her hips to meet his thrusts with the same veracity he was showing. "Harder," she demanded, her nails digging into his scalp and she writhed under him, reveling in the driving force of his body.

It seemed every thrust of his hips brought her one step closer to sweet release and Ziva was desperate for that relief. "Tony-Tony-Tony…" she cried, chanting his name like a litany as she spiraled closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure—the point of no return.

Tony was hovering at the edge of that cliff too, but he kept a tight reign on his passions. He needed her to fall first. Her body tightened and the tell-tale signs of impending orgasm let him know how close she was. His fingers went to work double time on her sweet spots, playing Ziva's body like a virtuoso. And while the location of their tryst prevented him from finding out if she really was a screamer, Tony was determined he'd make her _body_ sing just the same.

"Oh God-right there!" she panted, placing her palms flat on the wall and bucking her hips back and into the momentum of Tony's thrusts. He held her tighter, driving in and out of her and Ziva was so close. Just a second more…and then he hit that spot dead on and Ziva began to moan low in her throat, shivers wracked her body. It was intense and her belly coiled, liquid fire raced through her veins and she was there. "Tony!" she gasped, knees wobbling. "I'm—I'm coming…"

Tony barely kept his triumphant shout behind his teeth. "Yeah, that's it, baby…come for me, Zee-vah," he gritted behind his clenched teeth, tweaking her clit roughly. His arm tightened around her hard and his breath was hot against her flesh. "Come. For-Me." It wasn't a request—it was a demand.

That did it, and come for him she did. The sensation started at her toes and she could have sworn they actually curled. Then it sizzled along her skin, making every nerve ending tingle and jolt with electric ecstasy before it slithered into her belly, coiling like a snake. And like a rattler it struck with the same intensity, jolting her body with currents of adrenaline as her orgasm rippled out, overwhelming her until every limb of her body felt like a quivering mass of jello. It was sheer nirvana and Ziva's eyes fluttered closed as she climaxed with all the subtlety of a hurricane. A breathless cry was all she allowed herself before her teeth clamped down on her lip in order to keep the scream she wanted to shout at bay. It went on and on—wave after wave of indescribable bliss before finally she gave one last shudder and her body fell forward; limp.

Tony let his vigilant restraint go and his thrusts quickly became wild, lacking his earlier finesse as he sought his own climax. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh, hard and fast was all that could be heard in the small confines of the elevator until Ziva threw her head back and gave a hoarse cry, coming again just as Tony's hands clamped down on her hip and he thrust into her once, twice more before pressing his face into her shoulder and letting go completely. They came together with Tony muttering Ziva's name in a guttural whisper as he spilled himself inside her.

**NCIS**

Afterwards, utterly spent, Tony collapsed against her, blanketing her back and shivering uncontrollably. At this point he looked more like an addict clinging to his fix rather than the 'very' Special Federal Agent he was. Tony had always known he and Ziva would be hot, but this had been 'mind-blowing'. His brain felt sluggish and he felt as strong as a newborn kitten. "Wow…" was all that came to mind.

Ziva was no better. Tony's last few wild entreaties into her body had hit the elusive 'G' spot. The angle and size of him had been perfect and he'd managed to send her over the edge once again. Completely exhausted, with her knees feeling more like limp noodles than limbs, Ziva laid her cheek against the cool metal of the elevator and took deep ragged breaths in an attempt to come down from the high. The first thing her brain communicated, that is, when it could function again, was that he was heavy. Ziva moaned softly and Tony shifted his weight, easing off her a bit, but not pulling out. Ziva sighed in relief, but she noticed he was still inside her and it was a bit disconcerting, despite the fact that she did not really want him move, they could not stay this was forever—joined as they were.

Suddenly she was reminded of a summer at her parents' vacation home off Eilat when she'd witnessed two dogs mating. To her eight year old horror they'd gotten stuck like that—butt-to-butt—for over an hour before they'd finally gotten free. Her father had given her a very reasonable explanation, but to Ziva it had always been strangely ridiculous. Was this what all animals went through to have sex? An image of her and Tony stuck together like that flashed across her mind and Ziva almost gave in the ridiculous urge to giggle, that is until she pictured Gibbs' reaction and just like that all the warm and fuzzy sex feelings started feeling not so warm and fuzzy after all.

Oh God, what had they done?

Tony was in similar straights. Now that the buzz of sexual gratification was lessening, one thought was thundering in his head. _'The Boss is going to kill me,'_ but that was soon followed by, _'No, first he's going to slap me into next week—then he's going to kill me._' That was a very real possibility, but the first task at hand was the here and now. What the hell was he supposed to say to Ziva? Somehow he didn't see his normal _'thanks, had a great time-I'll call you,_' going over too well. She _was_ a trained assassin after all. She knew ways to torture a man he couldn't or wouldn't even want to imagine. She could probably remove a limb and keep him alive indefinitely. That wasn't a comforting thought and he grimaced. Tony was quite attached to each and every appendage he possessed.

The quiet tension between them was nearly deafening. The air itself seemed heavy. Ziva, ever practical, finally broke the strained silence. "Tony, you—we must move. We have been in here for far too long," she stated softly.

He sighed. "I know." He placed a lingering, somewhat sloppy kiss on her cheek before he pulled away, allowing his softening cock to slip from her body. They both gave a soft groan before Ziva busied herself getting dressed. Tony sagged against the wall and ran a weary hand down his face before gathering what little strength he had left and pulled his pants up. His knees were still wobbly and the fact that he managed to zipper up without falling flat on his face would have normally been cause for a cocky grin or a smart-assed comment, but for once he couldn't think of a single thing to say. To his horror his normally glib tongue had taken this moment to go on vacation.

Reality set in at that second and Tony exhaled loudly. What the hell had they done?

He kept his eyes closed, avoiding the inevitable eye contact and 'what now?' conversation. It seemed the safest option, but…he gave another sigh. Crap. If this was a movie he and Ziva would confess their undying love and kiss passionately. The music would play—credits would roll and they'd be fine, but this wasn't a movie and reality wasn't so happily-ever-after. They'd crossed a line, broken the rules and nothing would ever be the same again…

Ziva used her own tactics to delay looking at him. She averted her gaze and took her time refastening her clothes as she searched for the right opening statement. A 'thank you-I needed that' just didn't seem appropriate and even worse was the truth. The fact that she'd wanted him from the get-go. No. That would only stir up feelings best left alone.

The rustle of clothes was the only sound in the tiny space and the silence kept stretching until Tony was as nervous as a tom-cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He could hear Gibbs now, 'You've really done it this time, DiNozzo' and while Tony tried to tell himself that maybe—just _maybe_ banging your partner in an elevator wasn't technically a violation of rule number 12, (since they'd never actually been on a date) even _he_ knew it was close enough to make Gibbs unleash a hell of a lot more than a mere slap to the back of his head.

"Well…we've really screwed the poof this time, yes?" Ziva muttered in an attempt to break the tension.

Tony's eyes darted her way and he gave a short bark of laughter. "Not poof, Ziva—that's a British slang for homosexual…" he paused and winced, "At least I think." He shook his head. "Okay, off topic. Anyways…it's pooch. We've screwed the pooch." He sighed, "And yeah…we have."

Her eyes widened. "Pooch? Isn't that a dog?" Her eyes narrowed on him and he stepped back, away from her fists. "Are you calling me a dog, Tony?"

"What? No." He held his hands up to ward off any violent reaction from her. "It's the saying, Ziva… 'You screwed the pooch'…not poof." She simply raised a brow and he sighed, and shook his head. "You know what—never mind. I wasn't calling you a dog."

Satisfied, Ziva turned to him. "So," she asked, leveling her large, dark eyes upon him for the first time. "What now?"

He'd known it was coming. _That_ question, but he was as lost now as he was then. Damn! He ran a hand through his hair. He remembered the reason he had headed downstairs to begin with—to confront Gibbs and find out if he'd known about the 'botched' op. He averted his gaze from Ziva. "Now—well-now we face the music…I need to talk to Gibbs anyways..." He flipped the switch on the elevator, bringing it back to life. "Looks like, it'll be a dinner theatre for one…you can skip the encore if you want ot you can watch the show...whatever."

Ziva stared at him, open mouth for a full second before she went into action. She reached around Tony and hit the stop switch. "No. That is not what I meant and you know that."

Tony stared straight ahead, barely meeting her gaze now. "Gibbs is in Autopsy-that's where I'm headed," he said, reaching around her body for the elvator switch."I told you, you can watch the show or not..."

Ziva moved to block him. "What I was asking was not case related, Tony, and you know that." She shook her head. "I see now why women want to kiill you."

His eyes snapped to her. "Hey! That's not fair. I've never given any woman as many chances as I gave you."

Ziva's brows drew down. "What do you mean by that?"

"Never mind," Tony hedged, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do."

"No," he insisted.

Ziva drew a deep breath, "Ok, then I will start first. What I was asking is what now—between us, Tony? Surely you can answer that question for me."

Tony finally faced her. "Us? What us?" he snapped. He gave her a smile, but it wasn't his usual 'Cheshire-cat' grin, no this one was more than a little cruel. "Why don't you tell me about us, Ziva because as I recall you've always made it pretty clear there wasn't an us," he told her, stepping closer and crowding her space. When she said nothing and simply stared up at him, Tony moved even closer so that he was towering over her, practically on top of her. "So..." he said, his voice whisper soft and rough, "why don't _you_ tell _me_...is there an us in your future, Zee-vah Da-veed?"

Ziva took a hasty step back, but raised her chin refusing to back down. He prolonged her name when he wanted to irritate her. She would not let him escape this time with something so trivial. "Yes," she said, obviously surprising him.

Tony's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes, really. I know there is something betwen us, Tony, but are you still so afraid to show your emotions that you will deny what just happened between us?"

That made him stop. "Me? I'm afraid?" He laughed. "I fell in love—remember?"

"I remember. I also remember it did not end well."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

Ziva's jaw dropped. "Are you saying it is mine?"

"You let me fall in love with her."

"Let you! How did I_ let_ you fall in love, Tony?"

He sucked in a deep breath and surprisingly answered, "Because you knew—"

"I knew what?" she interrupted.

Tony paused. It was now or never. Jump or run. He decided to go for it. "You knew I had feelings for you. You—" he stopped and Ziva watched, fascinated as his green eyes turned a dark, stormy forest green. "_You_ could have stopped me and Jeanne. All it would have taken was for you to acknowledge what was between us…but you didn't and I ended up falling for Jeanne" He took a breath, _"So_ _who_ is the one here who can't show their feelings, Ziva? Me or you?" he finished in a growly whisper.

**xxNCISxx**

**Ok, this has gotten a bit longer. My beta reader came up with a great idea to finish this but I really wanted to get a part posted. I hope you all like it. Thank you for all your reviews, they're really great!**


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